Clone Wars
by Terraform
Summary: A continuation of life aboard the ship for April and Donatello shortly after their trip to Varanon. Loosely based on 2012 TMNT.


CLONE WARS

…

Even moving at sub-light speed on the other side of the universe, traveling on a spaceship in not unlike traveling anywhere else: a lot of waiting and lulls between spaceports and planetoids.

I spot Donatello by a starboard window, arms slung around one knee as he peers into the dark expanse beyond. In all the time I have known him, I have never seen him so free. It's a strange thing, considering our circumstances. Perhaps it's because Fugitoid is here, flailing his metal arms between consoles as he _bleeps_ and _blorps_ , essentially relieving Donatello from the responsibility of providing all the answers. Or perhaps it's because he is no longer hidden underground when all does is dream of the stars. Whatever it was, I could sense him at peace. It was beautiful thing to witness. Not the uncharted stars, nor the spiraling galaxy. Just him. Waiting for the universe to catch up.

A gentle _ahem_ invades my thoughts. Leonardo has appeared alongside me as silent as a thought.

"Does he seem different to you?"

"A little, yeah." I reply.

He sees it too. It's like a new brother walks among them.

He stands a moment longer before he gets to what he has come to say:

"You two should try and get some sleep. It's after midnight. Earth time, anyway." His voice cracks, almost indetectably, at the mention of Earth.

"Yes." Fugitoid echoes, who has zoomed in out of nowhere, his glowing pupils tenting in what I suppose is meant to be a show of encouragement, "It is now an optimum time to reset your respective mammalian and reptilian circadian rhythms. BLEEP. Rest assured - no pun intended - that in approximately 7.3 hours, I may require more assistance on board when we enter a level 2 hazard zone in this sector of the galaxy."

Level 2 hazard zone? I'm almost too tired to ask. Leonardo answers for me.

"Space mites. I've already checked."

We've passed through a cloud of those things before. Low level shields have done the trick of keeping them at bay, but occasionally someone will need to get on the hull and torch the suckers.

"Sure thing. Just give me a minute, okay?" I tell Fugitoid kindly, but if truth be told, his rigid scheduling gets on my last nerve.

"I'll give you more than one minute, young Miss O'Neil, I can give you _ten_!"

A brilliant scientist Professor Honeycutt may be, but he's definitely reading from the same joke book as my dad. The mere thought of my dad rips open my heart anew so I let it slide without remark. Instead, I bid Leo good-night and decide to seek solace alongside my dearest friend. I walk the cool metallic floors to where he sits, fold my legs beneath me and sidle up beside him until our knees are almost touching.

"Hey, April." he says gently, eyes unmoving from the scenery. From this close I can feel the warmth radiating from him. Donnie has always emitted an energy that is revitalizing and calming all at once. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it when he's not there.

"Anything interesting?" I ask, only a little facetiously.

"Same ol', Same ol'. Over a billion trillion stars and nothing's on."

I peer out into empty space. It's as black as the dark side of the moon and speckled with what looks like nebulaes of salt. It's as utterly magnificent and monotonous as the view from Earth.

"So, does this thing get Netflix?"

Donatello rewards me with a dry chuckle, eyes still fixated on the spectacle beyond. There is no Netflix. No TV. There is no _anything_ , anymore. Only borrowed time. With the imminent end of the World so far away, it's easy to forget the pain. I've become adept at pushing away any errant thoughts, acting as if we're merely on holiday. The way I'm dealing with it troubles even me.

"We're heading past the Tivorx binary star-system over there on the right." He indicates with a small tilt of his chin. "Eighteen planets that orbit two dancing red gas giants. According to the Galactic Almanac, the Avhari-Kailohr race call them 'the Eyes of _Holvahl_ '. So, in a sense, it's like we're being watched, too."

"It kind of makes me feel less alone out here." I say quietly, watching the glowing red specks fall behind us, "Knowing there are others in the universe besides us." Then, the unspoken dread that had settled in my stomach resurfaces. "Do you think we'll ever get back?"

This time he turns to me.

"I don't know." he says without falter. "But if there is even the slightest chance we can reconstruct the black hole device and save Earth… I know we can find it."

The sense of relief that infuses me is intoxicating. It is one of my favorite things about him - his unrelenting tenacity. I glance sidelong over at him - he is poised and lanky even huddled on the floor. I feel guilty that I need him to feel as close to normal as I can right now. He has already done so much. The last thing I want to do is add to the pile. After all, I am not the only one that has lost a father.

We sit in silence a while before he breaks focus from the porthole with a gentle smile.

"Can I show you something?" He doesn't wait for me to answer, probably clued onto the fact that I am already curious. He reaches into his side pouch and fishes out the novelty gem from the markets of Varanon – the gem that almost got us blasted by a six-armed alien stall holder. The crystal glistens like gasoline on the surface of the ocean.

I let go a silent gasp, shocked to see it. After narrowly escaping killer space-wasps and whatever abomination that was attached to the giant stomping foot, it was practically the last thing on my mind.

"You still have that?" My fingers arch towards it then fall back by my side. The last time I got involved with that thing, all hell broke loose.

"I took it." One corner of his mouth twitches higher, obviously pleased at his ruse, "Prize for the risk."

"It certainly was." I give an incredulous toss of my head, "How did you figure that thing out so quickly, anyway? Back down there?"

"Accident and luck." Donatello supplies with a slanted grin, "When we got back up here I had a brief look at ship's galactic almanac to try and make sense of it. This thing is remarkable – the tech is considered rudimentary out here, practically a _souvenir,_ but it's very sophisticated by Earth standards. Here, watch this-"

Donatello uncurls his fingers from the gem. It remains upright on its point as if by magic and begins to undulate its glow, casting shimmering bands of light on his palm. It was really rather beautiful, considering we had almost lost our lives over it.

"Wow," I gasp softly, the urge to reach out and touch it once again coming to mind, "What's it doing?"

"I believe it's absorbing information around it. That was how it was able to duplicate my form so easily."

A second later and there are two Donnies mirrored side by side. The copy is absolutely life-like. I reach over to poke the duplicate, but my finger passes through its green skin and continues onward into thin air. He raises his brow with a gap-toothed chuckle.

"Is it getting crowded over here?" he asks in two voices.

I laugh until I feel my cheeks glowing. It is the first time since we left Earth behind that I've really let loose. But, I'll be honest - two Donnies is… still something I'm trying to wrap my head around. A flip of the gem stone, and a second later, the clone disappears.

"And all for the low price of 900 zemulaks," I scoff as I eye the gem warily, "however much that is."

Donatello closes his hand around the gem, snuffing out the bands of light.

"I calculated it to be roughly eight thousand dollars."

My eyes widen, " _What?!_ "

"Eight thousand, two-hundred and ninety four, to be exact. Depending on the trans-Galactic exchange rate."

My jaw fell slack. It was little wonder why the alien vendor was more than a little miffed when we broke the first one.

"But…" he says as a low aside to me, "It's all yours now."

"You keep it." I tell him quickly, "As you said, prize for the risk. Besides, do you really want to see two of me?"

Donatello's face pulls strangely tight, and he pockets the gem with a slight cough. It takes a moment for him to adjust it there, and he can't seem to lift his line of sight from his hip. Finally he pats the leather pouch down.

"I'll- uh, I'll try to figure it out more. See what it can do. Who knows? Maybe it'll prove tactically advantageous someday."

.

The following morning I tap on the wall that closes off Donatello's sleeping quarters. I would say door… but there is no door. Let me explain. This ship is amazing. Everything we require from water to furniture to pipes is generated by the interior substance that lines the hull. All our waste is broken back down into this substance and all our food is generated from its building blocks. In essence, it is a closed system. In seconds it can form walls that rise like liquid from the floor that solidify to impenetrable plastic-like material. It is sound-proof and air-tight, and in a pinch, is capable of converting a room into a life-support chamber. Donatello has explained all this to me. But I am still unable to command the damn on-board computer to 'make' my door reseal properly.

"D? Are you in there?" I feel stupid as soon as I say it. My forehead drops against the cool surface. _Sound-proof walls_. I hold my palm against the smooth white wall, something which activates it, and try again.

"Donnie?"

A cut out of a door appears in the wall where I have placed my hand. It gapes open, and as I walk through, seals back up behind me with a soft pop. Donnie sits waiting at his desk, fingers paused over the keys of the console. My gut twists in shock- the Varanon gem is perched alongside the computer screen. Good lord, he's probably been studying it all night.

"Hey, what's up?"

I shrug and idly run a hand through my copper tangles.

"I'm sorry to bother you but it's my door, I think something funky is going with it. Do you mind if you take a look?"

"No bother at all." he says, standing, wobbling a little on his feet.

It's that small stumble, the blip in his steady nature that kills me. Without question he's been up all night. He's probably exhausted and starving and ignoring both things at once. But as per usual, he drops whatever he is doing whenever someone asks. That is the thing about Donnie. On occasion he can be impatient and sharp-tongued and completely distracted. But he is selfless to a fault. I could stand to learn something. My insides twist and buckle as the horrors of the last few days come rushing to the surface. My home, my family, my planet. Gone.

My throat aches and I feel hot tears sting my eyes. It is only when you lose so much do you really see what is important.

"Donnie, I…" I lift a trembling palm to wipe away the tears, "I want you to know how much it means to me that you're here. I couldn't have held on this far without you." I take a deep breath, trembling like a child. Guilt is a powerful force that has followed me across the universe. "What I said back at the farmhouse – I know that it hurt you. I wasn't ready. But now might be the only chance I get to say what I should have. Donnie, I was wrong. I –"

"April?!"

I swivel at break-neck speed to where Donnie's voice interrupts from _behind_ me. The wall has opened up allowing him to enter, along with trailing tendrils of steam and the lingering smell of soap. A white towel is draped across his shell, which he fluffs about his head.

He shoots a look across to the duplicate Donatello and frowns.

"Geez, did that thing let you in?"

My ears burn bright red as tell-tale hives creep up my neck.

Seeing my reaction, he practically runs to the gem, flips it over and presses a sequence of the crystals facets. As soon as he is done, the clone I had blurted out my soul to evaporates, leaving only the whisper of the ships sterile air. My mouth drops open and remains that way until I'm almost hyperventilating. Unfortunately for me, his lightening fast mind has made quick work of why I look so stunned – he knows I have been fooled by the copy.

"Hey," he says, shepherding me to the desk chair, "Maybe you should take a seat?"

I stumble down and bury my face into my clammy hands, wishing I could just die there. I feel him place a reassuring hand on my arm. That goddamned crystal has just soaked up everything I said and who knows how long before it spits it all back out again?

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea the copy would be able to bypass security protocols." he says quickly, as if explaining if fast enough could undo everything,"I never would have left it running, otherwise. I... I was just testing how well the A.I. built upon itself without a source…"

By source, he means himself. I, April O'Neil, am a class-A idiot. The clues that I had been talking to a clone were now beyond obvious – the lack of sound as it had moved, the lack of interaction with the environment. The wobble? What was that? Then it hits me: Donnie _has_ been up all night, and the copy merely replicating his movements. The real Donnie would never have missed that stuff.

"Besides, it couldn't have been that bad!" he says brightly. His voice drops: "Could it?"

I sniff and raise my head back up, confirming his doubts with my bloodshot eyes.

"Tell me you can delete the last ten minutes."

He stares at me a good few seconds. Without a further word he picks up the gem and holds the top facet down. The light drains from it until it becomes a lifeless stone. He places it back down with a light tap. There was no hesitation. No questioning. It was done.

"All of it's gone." he tells me, "Today, yesterday. Everything."

I nod and force my mouth into a smile.

"Thank you."

The gap toothed grin re-emerges.

"So… was it the door you wanted to ask me about? I noticed as I walked by that the seal isn't perfect. I think there might be a stray strand of Alutomite stuck in the wall. Probably just from your spacesuit."

Bless his soul for changing the subject. I know what he's doing and I play along gratefully.

"Yeah," I say nodding in agreement, "You read my mind. Thanks. I'll be… um, I'll be in my room when you're ready."

Shocking even myself, I place a soft kiss on his cheek, lingering longer than I should by his warm throat. I sense the even-keeled pace of his heart beat faster as my breath races across his skin. It takes him by surprise and he gives a slight dip of his head to set his gaze upon me, his eyes as dark and inviting as coffee. There he keeps so many secrets I want to set free. A thousand memories rush into my head and fill my heart, and all have one thing in common. How could I have not realized sooner?

And as we hurtle through space towards unknown destinations, I finally understand what he waits for as he watches the stars. I know, that at last, I have caught up.

…

A/N: Thanks to Novus Ordo Seclorum for prompting this idea many moons ago. Clearly I have melded the two artifacts on Varanon into one. Forgive my murky memory ;)


End file.
